


5 things the MSBY Black Jackals taught Sakusa Kiyoomi about love

by lettersinpetals



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Chaos, Cheese, Crack, EVERYONE BREAKS UP EXCEPT SAKUATSU, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Getting Together, Hijinks & Shenanigans, I swear it's just hilarious fluff, Invasion of Privacy, It's cheesy, M/M, Past Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Past Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Past Suna Rintarou/Miya Osamu, break ups, but are they permanent?, crazy ex-girlfriends, references to OPM songs and pop culture, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:01:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26828536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersinpetals/pseuds/lettersinpetals
Summary: And one thing he learned himself.(Or: The MSBY Black Jackals are cursed when it comes to love, and Sakusa suffers.)
Relationships: MSBY Black Jackals & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu & MSBY Black Jackals, Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu & Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 78
Kudos: 1166
Collections: ~SakuAtsu~





	5 things the MSBY Black Jackals taught Sakusa Kiyoomi about love

**Author's Note:**

> Just take it

**Chapter 1: Hinata**

Not a day goes by that Sakusa Kiyoomi doesn’t question his life choices.

He had a pretty good life in Tokyo. He was born there, he was raised there, he built his career there. Locals minded their own business, kept their distance, and felt no need to start random conversations or crack unfunny jokes.

He could have joined the Schweiden Adlers: back-to-back champions, with a roster filled with undeniable talents like Kageyama Tobio, and his old friend Ushijima Wakatoshi. They were a respectable team, not to mention they were based in Tokyo.

But instead, he decided to move to Osaka to join the MSBY Black Jackals.

Something must have gone wrong in his thought process somewhere.

Because now he was part of a team full of clowns, and had to deal with their idiocy _every damn day._

Did he mention he questioned his decisions?

He couldn’t be any more different than them. Bokuto Koutarou, Miya Atsumu, and Hinata Shouyou were the closest to his age, but they might as well be aliens to him. They all seemed to be cut from the same cloth and Kiyoomi often felt like the odd one out.

That’s not to say he didn’t feel welcome with them. In his more honest moments, Kiyoomi might even admit he was friends with them. Still, he didn’t always understand them.

For example, he simply did not understand why Hinata won’t just break up with Kageyama.

Especially since he was crying again.

Now, Hinata has always been prone to tears — he’d cry when he’d come across cute pictures of cats, when they’d watch a sad movie, when they’d lose a game, and even when they’d win. He felt emotions keenly and never felt any shame in acting on them.

But this wasn’t Hinata’s normal crying. From where he’d hesitated by the hallway, Kiyoomi could see him absently tearing a tissue to shreds, staring blankly at nothing as tears silently ran down his cheeks.

Kiyoomi considered his options: one, he could turn back around, return to his room, and hope that sleep would miraculously come to him; two, he could continue on to the kitchen, make himself some chamomile tea, and endure yet another rant about Kageyama Tobio.

Sighing, he stepped into the kitchen.

It was 2 a.m. on a Saturday and he was wide awake. The promise of a weekend had teased at his mind, but the ironic part was that he didn’t have anything to do. He never did. He had never been particularly social or outgoing. Still, his body didn’t seem to get the memo — it was adamant that he stay up and get a life.

Maybe this could count.

“Hinata,” he greeted politely as he made his way to the kettle.

There was a sniffle. “Omi-san, good evening. Er, morning, I suppose.”

He busied himself with making tea, deciding to heat enough water for two, because he wasn’t raised to be rude.

He pretended to be busy on his phone as he waited for the kettle to start wailing, trying to put off the inevitable. But before he knew it, he had two cups of tea on hand, and he was pushing one over to Hinata. He sat across from him on the dining table.

“Thank you,” Hinata mumbled.

For a while, they sat in silence as they sipped their drinks.

And then Hinata put down his cup and said, “I _hate_ him.”

Kiyoomi sighed to himself. Here they go. Again.

“Is he not sick of all the fighting? Because I am. We’re supposed to be partners, but he treats me like his personal punching bag. Which he _throws away after use_.”

Hinata then regaled him with extreme detail about his latest fight with his on-again and off-again boyfriend — some dumb argument about which Star Wars movie was the best, which turned into something else entirely and somehow became a screaming match as the two of them brought up the other’s past sins.

Kiyoomi was exhausted just listening to it.

The entire team had been witness to the famous freak twins’ explosive fights at one point or another, whenever Kageyama came to visit, or when they’d all have dinner after a match. At first it was amusing in its childishness, especially because the couple acted like nothing happened a few minutes later. But after the fifth time, they were simply done with it.

There was one time where Kageyama hitched a ride from Tokyo in their bus after a match, so he could come to Osaka with Hinata. Not even two hours into the journey, they started arguing loudly for everyone to hear. It ended with Hinata shouting, “Shut up, just shut up, I don’t want to talk to you anymore!” He had scooted to the edge of his seat and childishly dumped a bag in between them.

Everyone else stared out their own windows and pretended they didn’t hear a thing.

But it was enough for Kiyoomi to understand that their relationship had become toxic. Maybe it didn’t start that way, but that’s what it was now. They seemed to have an addiction for hurting each other.

“Hinata,” Kiyoomi interrupted. “I don’t know if anyone has told you this yet, but I’m telling you now: break up with him.”

Hinata stared at him blankly. “Break up. With Tobio?”

“Yes,” he replied with exaggerated slowness. “Break up with the man who calls you every variation of ‘stupid’ and ‘idiot’ every day.”

“But that’s just how we are.”

“So why are you complaining about being his punching bag? You _let_ him do that to you.”

Hinata opened his mouth and closed it.

“You’ve been crying so much lately, it seems it’s all that you know how to do, aside from volleyball. Is this how you want to live your life? I thought you were all about taking care of yourself now.” He let disapproval color his voice.

Hinata’s lower lip trembled and he dropped his face onto the table with a thunk. Then he started sobbing.

And then, as if the universe truly wanted to make everything worse for Kiyoomi, Atsumu walked in.

The blonde stopped in his tracks immediately when he saw the scene, eyes flicking to Hinata, before settling on Kiyoomi. He raised an eyebrow, which Kiyoomi took to mean _‘Kageyama again?’_

Kiyoomi rolled eyes and lifted a shoulder.

Atsumu glanced behind him as if wondering if he should just go back to his room. Then, like Kiyoomi, he decided to brave his way through.

Making his way to the kettle, Atsumu said, “I see y’all can’t sleep either.”

Hinata lifted his head. He hiccuped. “Hi, Atsumu-san.”

“Sup.”

Once Atsumu was settled on the table with his tea, he said, without preamble, “Listen, Shouyou-kun, I don’t know if anyone has told you yet, but you should just break up with him.”

Hinata thunked his head onto the table again and started wailing.

Kiyoomi pressed a hand against his forehead.

Atsumu continued, “Until when do you plan on staying this way? I rarely ever see you happy anymore. It really pisses me off thinking about how he treats you.”

Sniffling, Hinata picked up his head again and started wiping at his face. “But...we’ve been together since third year high school. That’s five years.”

“And?” Atsumu pushed on mercilessly. “Why’s it matter how long it’s been? What matters is how you’re feeling now and what you’re gonna do about it. You have a lifetime ahead of you, you really wanna waste it crying over Kageyama?”

“No,” Hinata replied meekly.

“So do something about it already,” Kiyoomi said, exasperated.

Hinata nodded slowly. “I’ll think about this some more. Thank you, Omi-san, Atsumu-san.”

After washing his cup, Hinata retreated to his room.

For a while, they nursed their drinks in silence.

Then Atsumu said, “That’s what happens when two dumb idiots who can’t communicate their feelings get together.”

Kiyoomi snorted. “And you’re so much better at it? You are a dumb idiot as well.”

Atsumu poked his tongue out at him. Mature. “I’ll have you know I’m an expert in these things by now.”

“Based on your string of obsessive ex-lovers?”

A pause. Then a grumpy “Yes.” Atsumu hurried to add, “It wasn’t like I _knew_ they were obsessive! I just thought they liked me! It’s not my fault it always ended disastrously, Omi-kun.”

When it came to relationships, the team was cursed. Kiyoomi truly believed this. Aside from their oldest hitter, Oliver Barnes, who had his own family, and their middle blocker Adriah Thomas, who was in a long distance relationship with his girlfriend, everyone was an utter failure when it came to matters of the heart.

There was Hinata, who was stuck in an unending toxic cycle with Kageyama; Bokuto, who seemed to always be chasing after Akaashi Keiji, even though they’ve been together for years; their libero Inunaki Shion, who always complained about nobody wanting him; and even their captain, Meian Shuugo, who was a serial dater always in the search for “The One.”

And there was Atsumu, who only ever had hookups when he was younger because he refused to date while he was _‘focusing on volleyball.’_ But now that he was a bit older and officially a professional athlete, he’d decided to _‘test the waters.’_ And he somehow always, _always_ got stuck with the crazy girlfriends and boyfriends.

What’s hilarious was that they truly did seem decent at the beginning. But he was never going to tell Atsumu that.

Around three months ago, Atsumu strolled in and declared he’s quitting dating, because _‘This shit ain’t all it’s cracked up to be, I’m done.’_

Kiyoomi, who’d never felt the so-called butterflies in his stomach, never tripped or stumbled for anyone’s attention, simply didn’t get the point to the whole thing. Love was a mystery to him.

Sure, he’d developed the tiniest crush on Ushijima when they were in middle school — Kiyoomi mentally thanked him for the gay awakening and went on his way. He never had the desire to actually pursue a relationship with him, or with anyone for that matter.

And from what he’d seen, it simply was not worth the hassle.

“I think listening to Hinata has effectively exhausted me. I’m going to bed.”

Atsumu made a noise of acknowledgement as Kiyoomi stood up and washed his cup. As he left, Atsumu threw him a “Goodnight, Omi-kun,” which he didn’t bother to return.

His (reluctant) friendship with Atsumu was a surprise. He’d respected him as a setter and as a teammate, sure, but he generally couldn’t stand him — Atsumu was obnoxious, and nosy, and vain, and the way he acted all buddy-buddy with everyone irritated Kiyoomi to no end.

But sometimes, just sometimes, he’d say something that cracked Kiyoomi up. Atsumu made shameless jokes, had a tendency to let out rude comments without a thought, and even if he managed to filter them, his expressive eyes often gave him away. He was a jerk. And Kiyoomi couldn’t help but snicker about it sometimes.

Inunaki would often look at them in disgust, saying _‘shitty birds with the same shitty feathers truly flock together. And here I thought you were nice at first, Sakusa.’_

Ah, well. Perhaps he fit right in, after all.

**Chapter 2: Bokuto**

It was another sleepless night, so he made his way to the kitchen for tea.

But before he could reach it, he spotted three familiar figures huddled together in the living room. Suspicious, he walked past the kitchen and approached them instead.

“What are you doing?”

They jumped and looked up at Kiyoomi guiltily. 

“Nothing!” Hinata chirped. He was a bad liar.

Looking entirely too amused, Atsumu said, “We’re hacking Akaashi’s Facebook.”

“You’re _what_?” Kiyoomi demanded. He stalked over and shoved his way in so he could peer down at the iPad that Bokuto was clutching.

Sure enough, the screen showed the log in page of the website. A small text read ‘incorrect password.’

“Why in the world are you doing this?” Kiyoomi truly did not understand his teammates.

Bokuto’s lower lip trembled as he gazed up at Kiyoomi. “I just want to know how he’s doing. And if he broke up with me because of that officemate of his. I knew he was crushing on Keiji, I knew it!”

“Calm down, Bo,” Atsumu said exasperatedly, like this wasn’t the first time he said it. “We don’t know that yet. Are you sure you don’t know his password?”

“I know it, he gave it to me once, I’m just having a hard time remembering the numbers at the end!”

“Well, think harder.”

Kiyoomi settled down on a separate seat, and resigned himself to watching the three idiots in bemusement. There was simply no stopping them when they were like this.

It came as a surprise to even Kiyoomi when Bokuto came home in tears one day, wailing that Akaashi had broken up with him. He’d apparently called up Bokuto, and in no uncertain terms, told him that he was ending things after three years.

That was last month. Bokuto had been inconsolable, saying that he was never going to love anyone again.

Kiyoomi, who’d already had to suffer through Hinata’s breakup with Kageyama (“for real this time”) three months ago, was simply _done_.

But when Bokuto said, “I got it!” he couldn’t help but stand and lean over the device, watching as Bokuto tapped his way into Akaashi’s messages.

This was very wrong. But Kiyoomi thought Akaashi should have known better than to give his password to Bokuto in the first place.

They didn’t have to scroll far at all. Sitting at the top of Akaashi’s messages was an unfamiliar name, and the Akaashi’s last message was, ‘Coffee sounds nice. Let’s go to Streamer tomorrow.’ 

Hinata gasped and for a moment they were all silent.

“I knew it,” Bokuto said darkly. “I knew it! He said nothing was going on but —”

Atsumu swiped the iPad from Bokuto’s hand, and logged out. “That’s enough of that. You have your answer now.”

“So that’s the officemate?” Kiyoomi confirmed.

“Yes,” Bokuto said, crossing his arms and pouting. “I met him once when I visited Keiji in Tokyo and I _knew_ it! He was looking at Keiji like a lovesick fool! And he hated me on sight! I talked to Keiji about it, but he just got upset when I brought it up. Said he was just a friend, and that I had nothing to worry about. But now —!”

“Well, you are broken up now,” Kiyoomi reminded him. “What he does is his business.”

“But what if he’s the reason Keiji broke up with me? Argh! I can’t handle this, I have to go.”

“Go where?” Atsumu asked, alarmed.

Bokuto was already getting up. “To Tokyo.”

“Let’s go to Tokyo!” Hinata said, excited.

“ _No one_ is going to Tokyo,” Kiyoomi snapped, eye twitching.

Atsumu had a considering look on his face that Kiyoomi was starting to hate. “Well it _is_ Friday...An overnight trip sounds nice, don’t you think? This way I can bug Samu, too.” Osamu was currently in Tokyo, overseeing the operations of the newly-opened Onigiri Miya branch there. “Not _now_ though, we’ll go tomorrow morning.”

Bokuto’s eyes were sparkling. “Awesome. Let’s do it! Omi-kun, you should be the one to tell Meian!”

“Why me?”

“Meian likes you best,” Hinata said.

“He’d be willing to trust you more,” Atsumu added.

“Yeah, because you’re all dimwitted idiots,” he bit out. Then he sighed. Maybe he could pass by his childhood home while he was at it, and catch up with his cousin Komori Motoya if time permitted. “Fine.”

He was going to regret this.

\--

He was regretting it.

It was autumn, and it was slowly getting cooler, but it was still not the time to be wearing coats and caps and sunglasses. But they had to, because they were in apparent _disguise_.

They were standing around, trying not to look sketchy near the Streamer Coffee Company in Shibuya. They had no way of knowing what time Akaashi’s coffee date would be, so they had no choice but to wait. Bokuto said Akaashi had probably set it for the afternoon, though, because he had a _‘strict personal weekend morning routine.’_

It was 2 p.m. now. They’ve been standing around for an hour, sometimes pacing, sometimes circling the block. Kiyoomi was hating this more and more. Not for the first time that day, he wondered why he tagged along.

“Can’t I get coffee?” Atsumu whined, as if he didn’t encourage this ill-advised plan. “Or any drink, jeez, I’m thirsty.”

“Then go get one,” Kiyoomi snapped. “That’s it, I’m sitting down. Go buy something, Miya.”

That was all the permission Atsumu needed, and he entered the shop. Kiyoomi claimed a seat on a table outside.

Bokuto and Hinata hurried after him.

“But when he arrives, he’ll recognize us!” Bokuto hissed.

“No, he’ll recognize _you_. And Hinata.” He eyed their hair, still distinctive even though they were hidden under hats. “You go hide in the corner. _I’ll_ stay here, I’m tired of standing.”

Bokuto pouted. “Fine, but don’t remove your hat and shades. And mask.” He and Hinata scurried away.

After a few minutes, Atsumu exited the shop, paused to look for them, and headed to where Kiyoomi was seated. He sat down across the table and pushed a cup over to him. “Here, Omi-Omi, I got you black coffee.”

“Oh,” he said, surprised. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Where are Bo and Shouyou?”

He nodded over where the two were peeking at them from their hiding place at the corner of the building. “Hiding.”

Atsumu snorted. “Yeah, Akaashi would spot them immediately.”

Kiyoomi eyed Atsumu’s blonde hair, tucked under a bucket hat. Most of it was hidden, and only his dark undercut showed from the back so he thought it’d be fine. Probably. “Just don’t remove your shades. He wouldn’t think to look for us anyway.”

They drank for a while. Then Atsumu admitted, “This might have been a bad idea.”

“You think?”

“It _seemed_ like a good idea last night.”

“Why did you indulge this?”

“Well...because I get it, kinda. Haven’t you ever been so in love, you did the most crazy shit?”

“No.”

“Ever?”

“Never.”

“Whoa.” Atsumu blinked at him.

“Who were you crazy in love with?”

“Oh, it was our old captain in high school. Kita Shinsuke.”

Kiyoomi very vaguely remembered the name. But a face doesn’t come to mind.

“We were never together, though.”

“Why not?”

“He just didn’t see me that way, I guess. But shit, I used to bend over backwards just to impress him. And I did the stupidest shit to get his attention. He let me down very bluntly when he was about to graduate. Broke my heart.”

“You deserve it.”

Atsumu barked out a laugh. “So mean, Omi-kun. Looking back though, that was probably more an infatuation than anything. Still, I would have totally gone to Tokyo for him. But not anymore.”

Kiyoomi was opening his mouth to reply, when he saw a sharp movement from over Atsumu’s shoulder. Hinata was waving his hand and pointing, eyes wide and panicked.

Kiyoomi looked behind him and there was Akaashi Keiji, walking beside a dark-haired man, talking and gesturing.

Alarmed, Kiyoomi whipped back around, reflexively grabbing Atsumu’s hand in a moment of panic. “ _Atsumu_ ,” he hissed.

“Hide your face,” Atsumu hissed back, his own face tilted towards the side.

Kiyoomi ducked his head, fumbling to put his mask over his mouth and nose.

They must look so stupid.

Thankfully, Akaashi passed by them cluelessly.

But before Akaashi could even reach the doors, Bokuto left his hiding place, wailing, “Keiji!”

Kiyoomi met Atsumu’s wide-eyed gaze. “Oh fucking hell.”

“Koutarou? What are you doing here?” Akaashi was saying.

“You said nothing was going on,” Bokuto said, voice wavering. “Were you cheating on me?”

In a cold voice, Akaashi said, “How dare you accuse me of that? Wait — did you come here to confront me? How did you know I was going to be here?”

Silence.

“Tell me you didn’t. Koutarou...” Akaashi’s voice was dangerous now.

“I had to know! I had to know if something was going on and I was right!”

“That is a breach of privacy! I can’t believe you! This is why we broke up, you’re just too — you’re just too much!”

Bokuto yelled back, “You said we just needed to cool off! Why are you on a date with another man!?”

Before Akaashi could say anything, an unmistakable voice snapped, “Shouyou boke!”

Kageyama Tobio was standing on the sidewalk, the opposite way from which Akaashi came. He was glaring at Hinata. “What are you doing here? Why did you want to meet?”

Atsumu was gripping back Kiyoomi’s hand now, squeezing tight enough for his bones to creak.

Whipping off his sunglasses, Atsumu demanded, “Shouyou, you asked him to meet you?”

All eyes swerved to Atsumu, and by extension, Kiyoomi.

Suddenly realizing what it looked like, Kiyoomi smacked Atsumu’s hand away, recoiling.

“You two are here too?” Akaashi looked like he was going to have a conniption. “Oh, wonderful. Wonderful! You’re all _insane_.”

“They’re here for support!” Bokuto snapped.

“What the hell is going on?” Kageyama wondered, scowling. “I thought we were just going to have coffee and argue about our breakup again.”

That set Hinata off, and he started yelling about how Kageyama _‘just didn’t care’_ about him, and their relationship, and anything outside of volleyball.

Getting carried away by the emotion in the air, Bokuto too started confronting Akaashi about his alleged affair, infuriating Akaashi, and causing his date to try to separate them.

As the chaos unfolded, he and Atsumu exchanged a glance. Then, Atsumu took off his bucket hat and started fluffing up his hair. “I don’t know about you, but this is good coffee.”

Kiyoomi followed his cue, removing his cap and shades now that the disguise is moot. “Do they have cake? I think I want cake.”

“Want me to get you some?”

“Please.”

The cake was good. And as he and Atsumu snickered and outright _laughed_ at the truly ridiculous things they kept hearing from the quarrels around them, he secretly thought the company was even better.

\--

After bystanders (embarrassingly enough) managed to calm down Hinata, Kageyama, Bokuto, and Akaashi, they were all sent away by security.

Atsumu called Osamu and said they were coming to his shop, and after some yelling over the phone, they were headed over.

They arrived at around 3:30 p.m. It was a weekend, so the store was rather packed, but Osamu had reserved a table for them.

Hinata and Bokuto were just crying.

Massaging his temple, Kiyoomi told Bokuto, “Tell me again what Akaashi said when he broke up with you last month.”

“He said,” a sniffle, “That it wasn’t my fault, or anyone’s fault. That there was no one else, like I kept thinking. He just needed to ‘find himself,’ needed to know that I was really the right thing for him. But then he — then he said that if I ever found someone while we were separated, that he wouldn’t hold it against me. That he would understand. It sounded like he was just looking for a way out! Like he just wanted freedom.”

“So _let him go_ ,” Kiyoomi said, aggrieved. “He needed to go, so let him go. Stop trying to drag him back. If he wants to come back, then he _will_. And by then you’ll _both_ be sure that it’s what the two of you really want.”

Bokuto, Hinata, and Atsumu stared at him.

“What?” he asked, irritated. “It makes sense to me.” Wasn’t that common sense? If you love something, let it go, if it comes back, it’s yours.

“You’re so wise, Omi-san,” Hinata said, looking at him with sparkling eyes. He looked like he had a realization himself.

They stayed in the shop until closing.

“Since you’re all here, help us clean up, you fucks,” Osamu told them.

“Damn, you shouldn’t ask Omi-kun, because then he’d never stop,” Atsumu said.

Kiyoomi ended up scaring one of Osamu’s staff, when he saw the sloppy job she was making of wiping down tables. He ended up snapping gloves on and doing it himself.

“Sorry about him,” he heard Atsumu tell her.

When the shop was locked up, Kiyoomi told them he was staying in his childhood home overnight. The others had rented a shared room somewhere, but he needed a break from them to maintain his sanity.

“I’ll actually just stay with Samu tonight,” Atsumu said.

“You will?” Osamu scowled. “The fuck? Go away, I didn’t ask you to be here.”

“You’re getting me anyway.”

Osamu sighed. “Ain’t that the story of my life.”

They went their separate ways and agreed to meet at Onigiri Miya again the next day, before opening.

Well. That was a disaster.

**Chapter 3: Osamu**

He arrived at Onigiri Miya too early. Osamu let him in.

“Where’s Atsumu?” he asked.

“Idiot’s still asleep. Left him to it.”

Kiyoomi shrugged, not particularly bothered. He’d probably arrive along with the others.

“Sit down, I’ll get you some tea.”

He settled down on the counter, curiously looking around. The branch was a lot smaller than the original shop in Amagasaki, but it was enough to hold over a dozen people at a time. There were also seats outside.

Osamu returned with tea. “So,” he said, when he placed it in front of Kiyoomi. “Yesterday looked like a mess.”

“It was.”

“It’s all over the internet.”

“What?” He hadn’t bothered to check his accounts. He had a lot of mentions on Twitter, though.

“It’s gonna be a PR nightmare,” Osamu said, smirking a little. At that moment, he reminded Kiyoomi of Atsumu, and he realized they were more alike than he originally thought.

“Not my problem.”

Osamu’s grin widened. “It might be your problem, because you’re plastered all over the internet, too. You and Atsumu might actually be the one to save your team from this one.”

Dread started building in his stomach. This was starting to sound bad.

“You might wanna check Twitter.” With that, Osamu disappeared into the kitchen.

When he checked his notifications, the first thing he saw was him and Atsumu holding hands while watching the two ex-couples argue. In another picture, he and Atsumu were free of their “disguises” and were sharing a cake and laughing.

There was a video going around too. Hinata and Kageyama were yelling at each other, Bokuto and Akaashi were being restrained by the latter’s date, who was also yelling for some reason. All the while, Atsumu and Kiyoomi were chatting as if they couldn’t hear a thing.

From what he could see, people now believed he and Atsumu were an item, and the Black Jackals were given the title of most chaotic team overnight.

Well. They weren’t wrong about the second part.

“Crap,” he said aloud.

“Crap is right,” Osamu said, returning with chazuke. He served the dish to Kiyoomi. “Is there something going on between you and my brother?”

“What? No. We’re friends.” They’ve been in the same team for a little over two years now. They didn’t get along at first, but now, as much as he hated it, he really did consider him a friend. He didn’t have many of those.

“I’m not inclined to trust you because it looks like the Black Jackals are disasters when it comes to relationships,” Osamu snorted.

“I wouldn’t really know much about it.”

“Relationships?”

Kiyoomi shrugged.

“Me neither.”

Confused, Kiyoomi tilted his head at him. “Aren’t you with that middle blocker from Raijin?”

“Yeah. Suna Rintarou.” That was the one. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Haven’t you been together since high school?”

Osamu nodded. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”

 _Why me?_ Kiyoomi wondered. _Is there something in my face that says I want to hear all about people’s love troubles?_

He sighed. “Well, spit it out. You look like you want to tell me.”

Osamu rounded the counter and sat beside Kiyoomi in the bar stool.

“I just need someone to tell me what they think. I sure as hell ain’t talking to Tsumu about this.”

Kiyoomi braced himself for yet another long-winded conversation. At the back of his mind, he blamed Atsumu. Why’d he have to have a twin as disastrous as him? He didn’t mind Osamu — by now the other man was familiar to him, as he visited Atsumu from time to time (it still amused him how clingy the twins were despite how they claimed to hate each other). But still.

“Okay, first I want to make it clear that there is nothing wrong with Rin. He has no major flaws. He’s a good guy.”

“Okay…”

“Sure he’s a smartass sometimes, and kind of a dick. But generally, he’s fine.”

Kiyoomi stayed silent.

“But that’s the problem. It just seems like this is it for us, you know? It just seems like he’s _fine_ where we are. With what he has. He’s just there, existing.”

 _Is there anything wrong with that?_ Kiyoomi wondered.

“It sounds like a weird thing to complain about, huh? But I just, I don’t know. I’ve just been leaving him to his own devices, and lately I don’t even feel like talking to him anymore.”

“How long have you two been together again?”

“Seven years.”

“And how long is _lately_?”

“Since the year started.”

Okay, that was a long time to not want to talk to your own boyfriend. It was already September.

“And I’ve been so tired lately, what with this Tokyo branch opening. I barely have energy to talk to him, or even _think_ about him. I just leave it alone. By _it_ , I mean the entire relationship. Like, okay, it’s just there. The end.”

“So you haven’t been talking at all?” Kiyoomi was curious now.

“Sometimes we talk, most of the time we don't. We just send each other links of stupid stuff. I don’t have energy to maintain a conversation, anyway.”

“Sounds boring,” he admitted.

“It is, it’s hella boring, and at the same time draining. How could that happen? Hell, I’m in _Tokyo_. We’re finally in the same city again, but we’ve seen each other, what, once a month? He doesn’t even visit here. I see Tsumu more often and he lives all the way in _Osaka_. And the worst part? I’m _relieved_. Hell, I barely feel his absence most days. And when he’s here, I sometimes wish he _wasn’t_.”

“Did you — you know — try talking to him about this?”

“I told ya, I don’t have the energy for that conversation.”

“Osamu,” he said carefully. “Did you ever consider maybe you could be depressed?”

The dark-haired man blinked at him. “Me? Depressed? I’m not sad or anything.”

“Depression doesn’t just mean sad. It could be just losing motivation or energy. Losing interest in the things you used to love. Feeling empty, feeling anxious.”

“Are _you_ depressed?”

“I struggled with it in high school. I’m in a much better place now. Had therapy and meds and all.”

“Oh,” Osamu was staring at him. He seemed to be turning over the words in his head. “Guess that’s something to think about.”

“But you don’t have to pathologize everything. If you’ve been having these thoughts for far longer, then maybe the problem isn’t the depression.”

“I think I’ve been feeling this way about Rin for an entire year or something,” Osamu admitted. 

“Sounds like a dead relationship to me. If neither of you are willing to fix it, then you should just end it.”

Osamu ran a hand down his face, groaning. “I was afraid you’d say that. God, do I even have energy for a breakup?”

Kiyoomi was starting to think relationships are truly exhausting, if even merciful breakups are going to be rough.

“I’ve considered it before, you know? Just ending it. I don’t know why I can’t follow through. Is it because of all those years we’ve been together? Or is it because I keep thinking he’s not a bad person, he didn’t commit any unforgivable sin, he doesn’t have red flags, and — whatever? Sometimes I remember how in love I used to be with him. I saw my old planner back in high school and I wanted to _puke_ , it was so gross. There were cheesy notes and shit.”

“I can see why it would be hard to let go. But at the same time, neither of you are even trying, so what’s the point?” Kiyoomi did not understand. If they wanted something, then they should not give up on it. But the two of them sounded like they already gave up.

Osamu sighed tragically. “No point, there is no point to this anymore. Whatever. Just like all of my problems, I will shelve this until it explodes in my face.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said sarcastically.

Osamu glared at him. “I’m starting to understand why you and Sumu get along. You’re cut from the same cloth.”

 _Huh?_ “We couldn’t be more different.”

Osamu just shook his head. Right then, the door opened and Atsumu came in saying, “Samu, why didn’t you wake me, you dick?”

Kiyoomi unconsciously straightened.

Atsumu halted in his tracks and looked from Kiyoomi to Osamu. “What are you two talking about?”

“Your latest PR scandal,” Osamu answered without missing a beat. He stood up from his seat and started making his way to the kitchen.

“Ah, right. Yeah, Meian is gonna kill us.” Atsumu settled on the stool beside Kiyoomi. “Did you see the posts? We’re trending.”

“And why do you sound amused by that?”

“It’s funny! People have been ‘shipping’ us for two years now, and they’re acting like they’ve just been given manna from heaven.”

“Imagine their disappointment when we say we’re not an item.”

Atsumu grimaced. “I am really not looking forward to the PR shit.”

“It’s those idiot’s fault. Did they have to make a scene? Ugh. This is also _your_ fault. You pushed everyone to go to Tokyo.”

“If I didn’t, Bo would have gone by himself!”

“At least then he’d be the only one going viral!”

Osamu cleared his throat, suddenly reappearing, before placing a plate of onigiri in front of Atsumu. “If you two are done bickering, you should eat breakfast. It’s a three-hour ride back to Osaka.”

**Chapter 4: Atsumu**

“My life is over. I’m ruined.” 

Atsumu was laying dramatically on the couch, arm thrown over his head. The team sat in various positions around the living room. Their head coach Samson Foster, and their manager Yui stood on the sidelines, frowns marring their faces. Even Osamu was there, having taken a shinkansen to Osaka the moment he heard the news.

“How could this have happened?” Osamu said, seemingly in shock.

“I don’t fucking know! I haven’t talked to her in seven months! And we broke up, I _swear_. You can go look at my phone if you want!”

“I believe you,” Osamu assured. “I just cannot believe the audacity.”

“You really know how to pick ‘em,” Kiyoomi couldn’t help but say. Beside him, Inunaki snickered.

What happened was this: A week after Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s photos went viral, Atsumu’s ex-girlfriend, Katsumi, released a statement on her Twitter, accusing Atsumu of cheating on her with Kiyoomi. She implied that they were still together, and that it hurt her to find out about his “affair” in this way.

She posted old selfies of the two of them as proof, as well as screencaps of their messages. Hilariously, one conversation showed her saying _‘I love you’_ to Atsumu, and him replying _‘night.’_

Inunaki laughed until he cried upon seeing that.

Katsumi also seemed to have a good time describing Atsumu and their time together as if she was writing the next Twilight saga. She wrote, _‘I was helpless to resist the pull; it took no time at all before I was willingly giving myself to him. But he is an untouchable being_ _—_ _his attention was intoxicating, but when he looked away, you realize he was_ _n_ _ever with you at all. And now I know why. His heart was already with someone else, even back then.’_

Kiyoomi forced down the smile at remembering the utter garbage. Bokuto had recited the whole thing with all the emotion he could muster, and they all nearly died laughing. Except Atsumu, who was already wishing he was never born.

The evidence was rather damning. Katsumi’s post had gone crazy viral, and people were torn between dragging her and dragging Atsumu. People were also dragging Osamu, because Katsumi also managed to say horrible things about him — _‘Atsumu had more time to visit his twin in Tokyo than to send a single message to me’_ and _‘I think the two may be codependent, I wouldn’t be surprised if Osamu turned him against me. He never liked me.’_

And then she said, _‘In fact, his entire team didn’t like me. Atsumu took me to their sharehouse once, and they had a good time making sure I couldn’t keep up with them. And I should have known he had something going on with Sakusa, because the man looked at me like an insect he accidentally stepped on.’_

So many reputations were at stake. Including Kiyoomi’s. He really shouldn’t be so amused.

“Alright,” Yui finally said. “It’s a good thing we never addressed the speculation between you and Sakusa-kun. Here’s what we’re going to do: Atsumu, release a statement denying all of it, or simply tell the truth about your past relationship — release whatever screencaps you deem necessary. In fact, release a video or something, or hold an Instagram live — you can charm people easier that way. Second, as of this month — the two of you are dating.” She looked at Kiyoomi pointedly.

“Wait, what?” he asked blankly. He didn’t see that coming.

“People already believe you are together, and you two actually have quite the fanbase — they’ve been doing a lot of the PR work for us, honestly. If we say you two aren’t together, Atsumu will definitely look like the guilty party. You might as well say you did have an affair. This way, we stand our ground, and we can just pretend you broke up in a few months or so.”

Even Atsumu dragged himself up to stare at her. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“I am _not_ kidding, and I swear to god, you _will_ do this or this team will be in ruins before the week even ends. We haven’t even recovered from the Tokyo Incident yet. Do you want to make it worse, Atsumu? This is _your_ mess.”

Atsumu flopped back down with a groan. “Alright, _alright_.”

“Sakusa-kun?”

“Yeah, fine.”

It couldn’t be that bad, right?

\--

Atsumu decided to hold an Instagram live the following morning. He had announced the event the night before, so everyone was waiting, even the team, who were probably in the living room. With popcorn. They were heathens like that.

Tens of thousands tuned in, and Atsumu announced that yes, he was in a relationship with Katsumi for four months, but that it ended on February 14th. He even presented his phone, showing them that he was, in fact, blocked in Facebook and Messenger, and that their last conversation was the day after the breakup, when she told him, _‘I hate your guts and I hope you die.’_

Atsumu really read that out loud. And then he said, “Okay, I promised I wasn’t going to be petty, but that was really asking too much from me. Kat, it would have been fine if you came for me, but if you drag Omi, and Osamu, _and_ my team, that’s a whole different matter. I am not letting this slide.”

He went on to explain that Katsumi was right in saying she was never his priority, because as an athlete, volleyball would always come first. However, she got upset then he didn’t have time for her, that he didn’t always reply immediately. The last straw was when he went to practice on Valentine’s Day.

“Now, I will be the first to admit that I am a shitty boyfriend. But to say she was a saint would be a lie. I’m not going to go into detail, but those four months were pretty much hell for me, and it was something I simply had no energy for. Hell, I was in the middle of the V. League season then. It was next to impossible balancing training and games _and_ a girlfriend, you think I can squeeze in a secret boyfriend in there, too? I should not have accepted Kat’s confession, I get that now. But I did, and it’s done, and I find it upsetting that it’s _still_ coming back to bite me in the ass.

“The whole thing with her traumatized me so much that I honest to god declared to my teammates that I was done with dating. And I was. The past seven months I did nothing of the sort. I was totally fine just being by myself. But then...Omi happened.”

Kiyoomi’s heart skipped a beat for some inexplicable reason. He was in the room with Atsumu because he was going to make a brief appearance. When Atsumu glanced at him, he warily approached and sat on the other computer chair they’d dragged in. He stared at the iPad, borrowed from Bokuto, as the comments section exploded. There seemed to be a lot of heart emojis flying around. There were thirty thousand viewers now. Were that many people really invested in Atsumu? And Kiyoomi, by extension? How strange.

Atsumu explained that the two of them were “teammates first, friends second, and boyfriends? We’ll see.”

“This is new,” Kiyoomi said. “Very new.”

“We’re talking weeks-long new. We just barely started dating, still trying to figure things out,” Atsumu said. “And already we have a scandal. I hope we at least broke a record or something.”

Kiyoomi snorted. “Stop saying ‘we,’ this is _your_ fault.”

“Will you always blame me for everything?”

“Yes. Trouble follows you around.”

“And what does that say about you?”

“That I’ve lost my sanity, obviously.”

Atsumu nodded slowly. “Sounds about right.” Then he kissed Kiyoomi on the cheek. “I hope you never get it back.”

Flustered, Kiyoomi settled for kicking Atsumu hard on the shin; it just made him laugh. He hoped his face wasn’t as red as he felt it was.

Stupid fucking Miya Atsumu.

As they were wrapping it up, Atsumu said, “Oh, and if you could stop hating on my twin, that would be great. He’s a shitty person but that’s still my baby brother.”

“You’re twins.”

“I was ahead for seven minutes, okay? Oh and of course I make time to visit Samu in Tokyo. I’ve known him for all 24 years of my life. I’m sorry I didn’t want to reply to Kat’s text that said, _‘If you don’t text me right now, I will break your wrist.’_ I mean...no offense but I’ll pass. On like...everything.”

Kiyoomi stared at him wide-eyed. “Did she really say that?”

“She did, I’ll show you later.” Atsumu addressed the audience. “Well, that’s enough pettiness for the day. We won’t be answering questions. Bye!”

\--

That night, Atsumu let him dig around the text conversations in his phone. Kiyoomi scrolled through his messages with Katsumi, and it was as entertaining as watching a Spanish telenovela.

At some point, Kiyoomi couldn't hold it in anymore. He asked, "Did you love her?"

Atsumu seemed to think about it. He shook his head. "No, I didn't."

"Why not?"

"Well, she was right about something. I never let myself love her. And never let her love me.”

“But why not?”

Atsumu slid a glance at him. “She just wasn’t what I was looking for.”

He didn’t expound on his answer.

And Kiyoomi wondered.

\--

Katsumi, apparently, did not appreciate being publicly denounced.

That was evident in the way she started banging on the door of their sharehouse the following day, screaming like a madwoman.

The entire team, woken by the racket, gathered in the living room, staring wide-eyed at the door, which was thankfully locked.

Osamu, who was still there because he was waiting for the scandal to die down before reopening Onigiri Miya branches, was shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you, Tsumu, I really can’t.”

“Why,” Meian said. “ _Why_ did you ever bring her _here_ , Atsumu?”

Atsumu hissed, “How the hell was I supposed to know she was this unhinged?! You all met her, did you think she was batshit crazy? Did you?”

“I, for one, thought she had crazy eyes,” Adriah said thoughtfully.

Barnes took a step forward. “Maybe I could talk to her...I mean what could she do to me?” He gestured to all 6’9” of him.

“Don’t!” Hinata said worriedly. “What if she has a weapon or something?”

Bokuto’s eyes were wide. “Do you think she would? Did she come here to kill Tsumutsumu? We have to protect him!”

Atsumu smacked a hand on his face. “No one is killing anyone. Nobody move, let’s call the police or something. Or Foster?”

“Let’s call Foster,” Meian decided, taking out his phone.

Foster told them to call the police and told them he was on his way. There were a few minutes of silence as Meian made the necessary calls, and they thought maybe she’d left.

And then there was the sound of breaking glass.

The window.

Hinata screamed and everyone started running towards the hallway that led to their rooms. For some reason, Bokuto, who was ahead of them all, led them all to the large bathroom at the end of the hallway and they all trooped in, too panicked to question it.

Bokuto locked the door and leaned against it, panting. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“Are there CCTVs in this house?” Kiyoomi demanded, anxiety rising. “We could use the footage for proof, that lady needs to be _locked the hell up_.”

“I’m not sure,” Meian said, eyes wide. “I don’t think so?”

“I’ll take photos and videos of the broken window,” Osamu said, taking his phone out from his pocket. At least someone here was practical. “Er. Later. Oh actually, I’ll start filming now because this shit is hilarious.”

“Holy shit, I can’t believe this,” Atsumu breathed out. He sat at the edge of the bathtub, and reached out to drag Kiyoomi to sit beside him. He went without a fight. “Are you alright?”

“Fine.” He was jittery and nervous. He didn’t like this. A crazy person was in _his_ home, doing god knows what.

Solid arms suddenly wrapped around him, grounding him.

“Oh god, when she breaks in here, she’ll come for me first, then Omi second. And then Osamu, because she somehow hates his guts,” Atsumu said. He clutched Kiyoomi to him like a child protecting his favorite stuffed toy.

“Everybody say it with me,” Osamu said, his phone directed right at them. “Atsumu _really_ knows how to pick ‘em.”

And then there was a banging on the bathroom door and they all jumped and screamed.

Atsumu was holding him so tight it was actually starting to hurt. He raised a hand and placed it on Atsumu’s forearm. His grip relaxed.

It felt like an eternity before there were a barrage of footsteps outside, some screaming and yelling, and then blessed silence.

There was a knock on the door. “It’s safe to come out now.” Foster’s voice.

Bokuto unlocked the door and opened it a crack. When nothing untoward happened, he opened it all the way.

Foster was standing on the other side, staring at them, amused. “Nine grown men, all of them athletes, and you were really in here shaking?”

“Hey, never underestimate a woman scorned,” Atsumu protested from beside him.

Foster shook his head, smiling. “She’s been taken to the nearest station. You all need to come in to give your statements.”

\--

Incident reports being accessible to police beat journalists meant it was all over the headlines the following day.

Embarrassingly enough, the police report (and subsequently, the news articles) detailed that the suspect was apprehended as she was banging on a bathroom door _‘where the residents all hid.’_

The MSBY Black Jackals had to release a statement confirming the incident, explaining the damage done to their housing unit, and assuring that nobody was harmed.

Katsumi posted bail, but they each slapped her with a restraining order, and that was that.

But they were _never_ living this down.

**Chapter 5: Meian**

Kiyoomi started feeling strange around Atsumu.

Nobody ever told him that pretending to be someone’s boyfriend meant the lines started to become blurred.

Atsumu would hold his hand every time they were in public. He would slide an arm around Kiyoomi whenever Hinata was filming all of them for his Instagram stories.

Normally he shied away from touch. But he’d started seeking out Atsumu’s.

His cheek burned with the memory of lips pressing softly against skin. His heart thudded thinking of strong arms wrapped around him.

He knew what it was of course.

The dreaded butterflies.

Why now? Why after 24 whole years of peaceful living?

And did he have to develop feelings for Miya Atsumu of all people? If the man attracted crazies, then what did that say about Kiyoomi?

It hurt his head to think about. For once, he didn’t know what to do.

He had zero experience when it came to these things — love, and romance, and sex, and relationships. Hell, he’d never even let anyone kiss him before. Sure, he had urges like any normal person, but they were never strong enough to compel him to act on them. He generally disliked people, and protected his personal space with ferocity. Why the hell would he let anyone stick his tongue in his mouth? He didn’t know what they put in there.

And Atsumu was leagues ahead of him in this game. He’d probably done everything with whoever was willing — and Kiyoomi knew many were willing. Hell, there was probably a line out the door. Atsumu probably had the filthiest mouth, so he didn’t know why he wanted to kiss it. Atsumu had been in casual relationships and more serious ones (well, he tried, anyway), and that never bothered Kiyoomi. Until now.

A lot of things were starting to bother Kiyoomi.

His mind, already prone to overthinking, was in overdrive. He started avoiding Atsumu. Then he started avoiding the whole team. If they wanted to go out, he’d stay in so he didn’t have to suffer through holding hands with Atsumu again. He liked the feeling too much, and it was starting to _bother_ him that Atsumu didn’t mean it. It was all for show.

He knew he should talk to Atsumu, but then what? They either stay friends or they become more. Both were problematic, because even if they stayed friends, his confession would hang over them like a knife forever. As for the second option — why in the world would he want to be in a relationship, when the people around him were breaking their own hearts left and right? 

Relationships fall apart no matter what. Just give it time.

\--

When Kiyoomi walked into the kitchen during another sleepless night, it was Meian that was sitting there.

He stopped in his tracks and Meian looked up. “Ah, Omi-kun. Couldn’t sleep?”

Did no one in this damn house sleep?

“Yeah,” he muttered, and headed to the kettle.

As he boiled the water he wondered if he should just take his tea to his room, or if that was rude and too obvious. After making his drink, he sighed and sat down on the table with his captain.

“How’ve you been, Omi-kun? I feel like I’ve been seeing you a lot less lately.”

Kiyoomi shrugged. “Just been feeling off, that’s all.”

Meian studied him. “Is this about Atsumu-kun?”

He stiffened.

“Don’t worry, no one else could probably tell. I’m just used to seeing the lovesick expression on my face, so I know to recognize it on other people.”

Kiyoomi glanced at Meian. He always deemed him rather trustworthy and dependable, two qualities necessary for a team captain. He didn’t look like he needed anyone else, so there was something that always baffled Kiyoomi.

“Meian, why are you so insistent on getting into a relationship?”

The older man has had countless flings, if you could even call them that — he was so invested in each one, no matter how short, and no matter how badly it failed. How could he give his heart away so easily, and to so many people?

Meian chuckled. “I know, I must seem silly to you, don’t I? Right now you’re wondering how I could be so dumb to let myself be vulnerable so many times, right?” Well, that too.

Humming, Meian rested his chin on his hand. “Here’s the thing. I am pretty settled in life. I was lucky enough to make a living doing what I love. I’ve won championships, I’ve reached milestones, I’ve made money. I’m retiring soon, you know that. Really soon.”

Kiyoomi was hit by a pang of sadness. Meian was turning 31 this year, and had already decided not to renew his contract when it expires next year. In a few months, he’d officially bow out of the game. Barnes, too.

“But it’s not the fact that I’m getting old. Honestly, outside of the volleyball world, I’m pretty young. There’s still lots of time to find someone. But I just keep thinking, I have most of what I always wanted. But what’s the point if I can’t share it with anyone?”

Meian fixed him with an intense stare. “Tell me, Omi-kun, when you look back at your life so far, what do you remember first? Do you think of your every win? Do you think of everything you got right?” Suddenly he smiled. “Or do you think about the time we all fell flat on our faces playing beach volleyball with Hinata? Or the time Bo puked his guts out because he had too much sake? Or when Atsumu forced you to dance with him and he mostly just dragged you around in circles?”

A lump started building in Kiyoomi’s throat.

“What do you think you'll remember most when you're an old geezer? Winning the championship against the Adlers? I mean, sure. But you'll remember the people you shared that championship with, right? And for all the grief they give you, you'll remember those three, right?” There was no need to specify which three he was talking about. His mind automatically provided the memories.

“I see.” Kiyoomi really did see.

Meian continued, “I look for love because without it, what's the point of living? And sure it will be painful at times — hell, it might even destroy you. I'm not saying it's going to be easy. But the pain makes the moments of happiness all the more sweeter. Besides, who needs easy? Don't you want to have something and keep it because you know you earned it? Because you worked for it? You of all people should know the answer to that.”

Effort. Consistency. The two values Kiyoomi lived by. Putting in the work day after day, basking in the little moments of satisfaction and fulfillment whenever it pays off. Those moments were worth it.

And Atsumu just might be worth it, too.

"Thanks, Meian."

"My pleasure. It's nice talking with you, Omi-kun. You rarely speak with me like this. I'm touched."

"I — I'll try to do it more."

"I'd like that."

\--

But of course, he ended up putting it all off, something very unlike him.

Sue him. He was actually low-key terrified. This was uncharted territory. If he jumps in, will he sink or swim? Or will someone catch him?

Naturally, Atsumu had realized something was amiss. He, too, started keeping his distance from Kiyoomi.

It frustrated him. This wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

Thoughts of Atsumu started keeping him up later and later at night. Just a couple weeks before the season kicked off, he sighed in defeat and rolled out of bed. Guess he was doing this again.

Once in the kitchen, he made tea. Just as he was about to settle down at the table, he noticed that the door leading to their back porch was slightly open.

Feeling a stab of paranoia, Kiyoomi did the stupid thing and crept closer, abandoning his tea completely. He relaxed when Atsumu’s voice reached his ears.

He pushed the door open to see Atsumu sitting on the porch on his phone. Atsumu looked over his shoulder and paused. “Listen, I’ll call you later, Samu. Night. Bye.” He tapped at his phone and gestured to the spot beside him. “Wanna join me, Omi-kun?”

The night was chilly, but he figured he would survive in his oversized hoodie and pajama pants. He shuffled closer and sat. “What are you doing out here so late?” It was already 1 a.m.

“I was just greeting Osamu happy birthday.”

It took him a couple of seconds to catch up. He straightened. “ _Oh_. Happy birthday, Atsumu.”

“Thanks, Omi-Omi. Gonna give me a gift or what?”

Kiyoomi glared at him and Atsumu laughed.

“Prickly as usual.”

They stared out into the night in surprisingly comfortable silence. Without meaning to, he started to relax.

“So what’s up with you lately? You’ve been...off.”

Kiyoomi tensed right up. “Just overthinking some stuff.”

“Is this about the fake relationship? You know we can always call it off, right? Kat’s out of the picture, the whole issue’s dead.”

It’s true. In fact, people had apologized to Atsumu for how they dragged his name through the mud. The whole thing set yet another discourse on cancel culture, and they just left them to it. With everything settled, they really could call off their so-called relationship.

The idea did not comfort him. It wound him up further.

“Look, I’m sorry, Omi-Omi. I didn’t think it would upset you that much. I know it must have been unbearable for you —”

“What?”

“Being forced to be with me like that must have disgust you —”

“Atsumu —”

“I’m sorry I was so touchy, it’s just, you were letting me, finally, and I enjoyed it too much I literally couldn’t stop —”

 _What?_ The butterflies were back in full force.

“I figured it was the closest I could get to what I really wanted — what I’ve been wanting for like a goddamn year now —”

Kiyoomi grabbed the front of Atsumu’s shirt, dragged him in, and kissed him straight on the mouth.

Then he let go. Atsumu stared at him wide-eyed, uncomprehendingly.

“Your gift,” he murmured. “That’s my first kiss. You can have it.”

Atsumu’s eyes widened further.

“And...the others, too. If you want.” He flushed. This was horrendously embarrassing. How did people do this? He forced himself to add, “I liked it too much, too.”

“I do want,” Atsumu said hoarsely. “Shit. Am I dreaming?”

Kiyoomi huffed and glared out into the night. Atsumu was such a dramatic idiot.

Cool fingers touched Kiyoomi’s cheek and he shivered. They moved downwards until they gripped his chin. His face was turned towards Atsumu.

“We could do better than that for your first kiss.”

And then he proceeded to show Kiyoomi just what he’d been missing.

And Kiyoomi finally understood. This was the feeling of being crazy in love.

And he would go to the ends of the earth chasing this feeling, too.

**Chapter 6: Kiyoomi**

Kiyoomi was horrified to realize that all the sappy cliches he’d read or heard about being in love were cliche for a reason. He was walking on air. His days were brighter. Birds sang just for him.

The moment he woke up, he’d think of Atsumu and his heart would immediately start racing. He hated parting with him at the end of the day, and thoughts of Atsumu followed him into his dreams.

It was disgusting. It made him want to puke.

But then Atsumu would lace their fingers together and he’d think the gross shit was fine if he could have this.

After kissing endlessly on the back porch that night, Kiyoomi dragged them both inside because he could no longer stand the cold. 

They ended up curled up together in Kiyoomi’s bed. He found out that he really, _really_ liked cuddling.

“You’re like a cat,” Atsumu said, awed, as he stroked fingers through Kiyoomi’s hair. “A giant, moody, snobby cat.”

They talked, about anything and everything. Kiyoomi shared what Meian had told him several nights ago. And Atsumu told him that Katsumi actually got a bunch of stuff right.

“Guess I was being too obvious about my crush on you,” he said sheepishly. “I mean, I figured early on that I didn’t have a chance with you, I had no intentions of fucking up our friendship, you know? So I told myself I gotta try dating other people so I’d get over you. That obviously exploded in my face.”

“But, I mean...she was still crazy.”

“Yeah she was. Like, she really was, you have no idea. But I guess she was always paranoid about you? Man, the whole thing was just a mistake. Adriah was right, she did have crazy eyes.”

“She’s not important anymore.” If she tried posting crap again, he'd torment her with photos of him and Atsumu kissing.

Atsumu smiled at him. “No, she’s not.”

They talked until the room slowly brightened as the sun rose. Atsumu gazed at Kiyoomi’s face and traced a finger down his cheek. “I love this time of the morning. The light is just right.”

He took a selfie of them like that, and with Kiyoomi’s permission, posted it on his social media accounts.

**Miya Atsumu** @miyaatsumu

Best birthday gift ever.

(Yes, we’re official now. 10.05.2020)

[Photo: The two of them were lounging in bed. Kiyoomi had an arm around Atsumu’s neck, looking cozy in his hoodie, glancing at the camera as if saying, ‘Yes? What are you looking at?’ Atsumu meanwhile was grinning triumphantly, eyes sparkling.]

“There, now they can stop thinking we got together in September. Good thing we didn’t outright say we were boyfriends back then,” Atsumu said. “We can just say we were testing the waters.”

“Boyfriends,” Kiyoomi tried. “Boyfriend. Boyfriends.”

Atsumu was looking at him apprehensively. “You don’t like?”

“I like,” he decided.

And he really did like it, being Atsumu’s boyfriend. He got all the cuddles and kisses that he wanted, but would rather die than ask anyone for. Atsumu never pushed to take things further, for which he was grateful. Eventually, they’ll take all those steps, one at a time, together. But for now, Kiyoomi was relishing this gentle affection. He never had any of it before.

Atsumu had the tendency of staring at him unblinkingly, as if in amazement. Sometimes Kiyoomi would kiss him in the temple, and he’d hide his flushed face in his hand.

It was cute. And it comforted Kiyoomi that he wasn’t the only one in this strange, thrilling ride.

The team, however, watched them like they didn’t know what to make of them.

“Listen, I thought it was just pretend,” Inunaki said, staring at the nonexistent space between Kiyoomi and Atsumu as they sat on the couch. It was movie night, but they couldn’t agree on a movie.

Kiyoomi ignored him, snuggling against Atsumu aggressively, silently demanding attention.

Atsumu wrapped an arm around him, pressing a kiss on his head.

“I am...disturbed,” Adriah admitted. “Sakusa, what happened to you, man?”

“I, too, am disgusted by all this, so if you would be kind enough not to mention it,” he said flatly.

Meian laughed.

“Well, at least some of us are happy,” Hinata said miserably.

“I miss Keiji,” Bokuto pouted.

Something seemed to occur to Inunaki. “I cannot believe that of everyone here, it’s these two shitty people who are happily in a relationship together. What the hell? Who allowed this to happen?’’

“If you’re all done being bitter, I’d like to watch a movie, thanks,” Atsumu said.

But that night, Kiyoomi couldn’t stop thinking about it. About Hinata crying because of Kageyama in the kitchen, about Bokuto going to Tokyo just to lose Akaashi again, about Osamu and Suna just drifting apart and giving up.

Just as he opened his door after he and Atsumu parted ways in the hallway, Atsumu suddenly reappeared, bracing a hand on the doorway. “On second thought, may I come in?”

“Sure?” he stepped aside and Atsumu entered his room. “What is it?”

“You just looked like you had something in your mind. What’s wrong?”

When did Atsumu get good at reading him?

Kiyoomi sighed and sat on his bed and tried to figure out how to word it. A big part of him resisted opening up like this, but the thought bugged him. He needed to say it.

“Atsumu, what if this doesn’t work out?”

He could feel Atsumu’s gaze on him but didn’t lift his eyes to meet it. In a tentative voice, Atsumu asked, “Did I do something?”

Surprise made him finally look up, and he didn’t like the almost scared expression on Atsumu’s face. “No,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.

“Okay.” But there was slight frown between Atsumu’s eyebrows, and Kiyoomi just knew his mind was in overdrive, thinking stupid thoughts. The rest of his face was impassive — he was retreating into his walls.

Yeah, he got good at reading Atsumu as well.

He stood up and kissed his stupid boyfriend, gripping his face. “You didn’t do anything.”

Atsumu was searching his face. “Then why…”

Kiyoomi sighed and sat back down. “Hinata broke up with Kageyama. Akaashi broke up with Bokuto. Relationships fall apart, don’t they?”

The bed dipped as Atsumu sat down beside him.

“I can’t promise you that we’ll live happily ever after. Hell, I can’t even promise you that we'll be happy next year, or two years from now, or ten years from now. Relationships are hard work, you know? And it’s easy to fuck it up. And we will definitely fuck it up at some point. Several times, even,” Atsumu said. “But you make me so happy so I want to try anyway. To have this for as long as I can. Don’t — don’t you?”

Atsumu was just as scared as him.

His eyes burned. “I do.”

“You don’t stop playing volleyball because you’re scared of losing the game, right? Win or lose, it’s about the fun we had playing, right?”

He nodded his head, blinking rapidly, remembering Meian’s words once again.

“There are many things I can’t promise, but I promise you that I will try. Every day. I’m no quitter, Omi. I hope — I hope that’s enough for you.”

Kiyoomi finally wrapped his arms around him and buried his face in his neck. “It’s enough.” It was more than enough.

Atsumu sighed, slumping. Kiyoomi was sorry to have scared him. He pressed a kiss to his neck.

He’d been thinking about it all wrong. The goal wasn’t to still be together at the very end, no matter what it cost them. Rather, it was to fill their life together with precious little moments, until they could look back and smile at what they’ve built together. And should they separate, it will stay there, immovable. Unerasable.

But they would not separate, not if Kiyoomi had something to say about it.

He always accomplished any goal he set his mind to. Then and there, he decided — a life with Miya Atsumu.

He could do that.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday, Miya twins!
> 
> Believe it or not, these were based on real events (the crazy ex-girlfriend) and even real conversations (see: Osamu's ramblings). Also based on OPM songs (Nakapagtataka, Cool-Off, Halaga) and there was one scene inspired by Brooklyn Nine-Nine. It's all just fun. You guys asked for it on Twitter so here it is.


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